


Fall

by tea_petty



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Hurt, Penis In Vagina Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29432826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: A sexy sequel to 'Lessons at the Piano'Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-pettiest
Relationships: Austria (Hetalia)/Reader
Kudos: 9





	Fall

Sunlight filtered in between the canopy of foliage, dappling the muddy, beaten path with yellows, shadows, and every shade in between.

The air was thick and earthy, fresh with the sharpness of pine and wet with what must've been recent rain. The bracken and dew sliding off blades of grass wetted her hiking boots as she trailed a few paces behind Roderich.

For a man who had his name printed next to a diamond the size of her fist in a registry and who always flew first class, he could hold his own surprisingly well in the woods. Of course, this was helped by how instead of tents, they stayed in his family's series of luxurious, woodsy bungalows for them to flock to during the unsavory gray months.

When he'd first invited her, she'd imagined a romantic, sexy hideaway. He'd asked her as the woman he was seeing (girlfriend just sounded so… _casual_ – something that Roderich abhorred) after all.

Still, it was their second day there, and he had scarcely touched her.

In fact, he'd been as chaste as he'd been when he'd first started seeing her, which she later found, after their first time _making love_ – she cringed at the word – was horribly uncharacteristic of him.

She thought by getting outdoors -- or getting _away_ \-- they'd be fucking like rabbits, thereby breaking their prolonged drought of physical intimacy. Instead, she started to feel as sexless as one of the grand, old oaks in these woods. No offense to the trees, of course.

She followed him, watching his back as they made the trek up the path, which was now veering somewhat steeply uphill. In the distance, something screeched.

She paid no mind to that, though. She felt like they were the only ones within miles, and she took full advantage of this privacy, ogling her boyfriend shamelessly through his clothes.

His white button-down shirt pulled deliciously across the expanse of his back, which was surprisingly muscular for a man whose perfect day consisted of him sitting on his ass and poring over sheet music. Speaking of 'ass,' it was remarkably pert for one that spent so much time being sat on.

She could hardly get enough of the gentle lift of each individual buttock as he walked.

"Did you get stuck in a bear trap or something? You'll get lost if you don't keep up."

Said boyfriend's chastising voice jolted her from her dirty daydreams.

"No, sorry, I'm coming!"

She jogged up that damned hill, half-convinced it would kill her and half-convinced that Roderich would think she deserved it for lagging so far behind.

"Honestly, what were you doing?"

"Daydreaming, I guess," her face heated. "Sorry."

His eyes, so deep and dark a blue they could've been purple under the rustic spell of the forest, studied her face a little suspiciously before he shrugged and turned back to the path.

"It's fine – but you should be careful." The path veered sharply down, and they began their descent further along. "What would we do if we got separated? Worse yet, what if—"

She never caught the end of his sentence because then her foot slipped out from under her. It caught in a pitted area of the path, formerly hidden by the dry leaves curled up into themselves.

The bottom of the pit stopped her foot's trajectory abruptly, and she felt her ankle bend sharply to the right.

She let out a yelp as she slid down and landed hard on her butt.

Roderich whirled around at the sound of her distress, his face drawn in surprise and concern so fresh she was almost satisfied she fell.

Her ankle ached, low and persistent, while her arms felt rubbed raw, even through her long-sleeved shirt.

"Are you alright?" He went to her, crouching and looking endearingly useless in his khakis, though she knew better by now.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just slipped."

His gaze dropped over her.

"Evidently."

He held out his hand, and she took it, a little shyly, though she tried not to look it. He stood, and she let him pull her to her feet.

"I'm sure all I need is a little bit of rest and— _damn it_!" 

She winced and picked her injured foot up, favoring it.

"See? I _told_ you to pay closer attention."

"Actually, you told me to keep up."

Roderich rolled his eyes.

"Well, some things shouldn't have to be said."

 _You're telling me_ , she thought.

Roderich's hand was firm and steady in hers, so much so that she hardly noticed as he swept the other arm down and behind her, against the backs of her knees. Her weight gave beneath her, and then she was in his arms.

"Hold on to me," he ordered, still sounding a little peeved.

"Roderich, I—"

She broke off. What? 

He didn't have to? She couldn't limp the mile back to the cottage, that was for sure. She decided to stay quiet and obediently wrapped her arms around his neck. 

For his fake glasses and dumb, overpriced boat shoes, Roderich was unwavering as he carried her, hardly even breaking out into a sweat. As she watched the scenery pass sluggishly from his arms, she noticed how well the woods suited him. His fair skin was flushed from exertion, his hair tousled from the wind. Across his right cheek, there was a bit of dirt, and she couldn't fathom how it had gotten there. 

As Roderich carried her back to the cottage, she became increasingly aware of the hardness of his body and how soft she felt when cradled against it. 

She knew he was trying to get them back to the chalet, and yet, she couldn't help but think about how tightly he was holding to her or the way his body heat radiated through the material of his shirt. 

Between this and finding the opportune times to steal glances at his fine-boned face, she could hardly even pay any mind to the gentle throb at her ankle or the scratches that must've feathered her arms up to the elbow.

By the time they got back to the cottage, she had thought of possibly everything except tending to her minor injuries. She barely felt the pain.

In fact, watching Roderich kick the screen door open had made her feel wonderfully warm in places wholly unrelated to her ankle.

As he carried her into the bedroom, she couldn't help but feel optimistic about the course of treatment that would follow.

Roderich set her down gently onto the bed, and that's where her hopes died. If Roderich was being gentle, it meant that fucking was anywhere but on his mind, which sucked because it entirely made up hers at the moment.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to get the first aid kit. Can you undress?" Her brow lifted, but Roderich was speaking again before she could answer. "Try, and if not, I'll help. I think we should get you all cleaned up before we see to your injuries."

Roderich's eyes met hers, unreadable. She held it, hoping to find some semblance of an ulterior motive there, other than just making sure she was clean and well.

She found nothing, _even_ at the mention of undressing her. Her mood soured considerably quicker.

She remembered when he couldn't seem to resist tearing her clothes off, and now that she was most probably going to be naked in front of him, he didn't so much as blush? And _here_ , where there was no one to disturb them?

Roderich turned to leave to do precisely what he'd said he'd do, and without thinking, she reached out, her fingers catching his, tugging him back. When she moved, she could feel a pull at her scratches, like the skin was straining away to peel back and expose her further.

Roderich was looking at her, one eyebrow cocked questioningly.

Her throat felt full and stuck.

"I don't…think I can do it by myself."

She called her own lie as soon as the words left her mouth. It sounded feeble. Uncertain.

Her face warmed, and she looked down, keeping her eyes focused on her fingers in Roderich's. He undoubtedly could feel the clammy sweat that had sprung at her palm.

His features sharpened, skeptical now, rather than curious.

"And how would you know? You haven't even tried."

His scolding tone made her feel small. She felt stinging shame well in her, and she tried hard to swallow it down.

"I just…have a feeling," she muttered unconvincingly. "I…need you to do it for me. To take my clothes off."

She wanted to kick herself with her stupid, busted ankle. Roderich immediately understood. He pulled his hand from hers, and as she grappled with the scathing rejection, he crossed his arms.

"Honestly – there's a time and a place. Besides, you _are_ really hurt, aren't you?"

The warmth had risen to a fever. She felt like she might be sick -- still, she nodded, not trusting her voice.

"Then, I'll go get the water and first aid kit, and when I get back, I'll help you."

She let him leave, dejected. By the time he returned, a glass of water and first aid kit in hand, she'd only managed to shrug off her light jacket. Roderich said nothing about this. Instead, he ignored her petulant expression and handed her the water.

"Drink."

She accepted it from him, her eyes locking onto his as she lifted the glass to her lips and tilted. The first few sips were perfectly regular. Roderich was still watching as she pulled back from the glass, allowing the water to slide out of the cup and wet the front of her white tank top.

As the fabric clung to her skin, he saw her bra bleed through the wet fabric.

"Oops," she said, still staring at him intently.

Roderich's jaw tightened, a tendon leaping out.

"Cute. Very mature."

"I know you are, but what am I?" 

His lips twitched.

"Do you want my help or not?"

"For what?"

"To bathe? We should get you and all those cuts clean."

His eyes ran down her arms, which were striped with pink welts beaded with red from when she'd fallen into the brush.

"Fine. It's not like there's anyone else around to help," she muttered, still embarrassed at being rejected.

Roderich scoffed.

"Then, lift your arms," he said curtly.

Before she could even respond, he was pinching the hem of her tank top and wrenching it up and over her head.

Her arms got tangled for a moment -- she hadn't been ready to heed his instructions – and then Roderich finished pulling it off, and she was left cold in her damp bra and trousers.

Roderich bent closer to her to pop the button on her pants. When he hooked his thumbs in the waistband, she found herself caged to the bed by his arms, his face by her cleavage. 

She could feel his warm breath fanning against her skin. 

"Lift your hips."

It took her a moment to realize he was talking to her. Roderich was already tugging her trousers against her where they caught between her ass and the bed when she obliged so he could slide them down her legs.

He let them fall to the floor, where he'd thrown her tanktop.

Truthfully, she could've undone her bra herself, but they'd already made it this far. Besides, her anger at how Roderich had spoken to her made her want to see him do it, just for the satisfaction of it all.

He had his fingers in her panties and was drawing them down her legs as she repeated the lift so he could get them past her butt. When he stood so he could reach her bra, she saw now that he hadn't been quite as stoic as she'd initially thought.

Roderich was sporting a huge hard-on. 

_We don't need the lovely cottage when he's pitching a tent that big,_ she thought to herself.

Again he leaned forward, his breath at her breasts, his arms around her, as he moved to unclasp her bra. She felt the tightening of the band around the barrel of her torso and then the quick release as he undid it.

They both let the bra slide off her arms.

Her nipples were tight and aching from the cold. She was also finding it increasingly difficult not to stare openly at Roderich's erection.

Neither of them moved, and she thought it strange that he'd put such a fine point on getting her clean but hadn't even run a bath. 

She looked up at him. He looked coldly back at her.

She wasn't sure she could take much more of this frosty, sexless silence. 

What happened to the hot-blooded man who wanted to squeeze passion from every stone he could?

This stuffy, uptight man might've been one she'd met ages ago, but it certainly wasn't the man she was dating now. So why had he come back?

She reached forward, without thinking, and groped shamelessly at his covered cock. He was hard as iron in her hand and warm too.

She gave him a jaunty squeeze, and Roderich stiffened. In the next instance, she fell back against the bed, her ankle throbbing as her legs went up in the air. The duvet rubbed uncomfortably against the raw scratches at her arms. At the same time, Roderich hovered over her, caging her to the bed.

His glasses had jostled on his face, one side falling entirely off the ear in the abruptness of the movement.

His fingers were hard on her, and they left their bruising hold at her skin only long enough to wrench his own trousers open and free himself from his underwear.

"I _told_ you, there's a time and a place," he practically growled. "How do you think it makes me look? Holding you like _this_ when you've hurt yourself."

She rolled her eyes.

"It's not that serious."

Roderich, not one to be teased or dismissed, jostled their hips, reaching down to palm his cock and guide it so that it was pressed against her entrance. 

She gasped, not expecting the burn of his thick tip against her wet hole.

He rocked his hips, grinding his cock against her.

"It's not? Are you quite sure?"

Roderich buried his face into her neck, and she shivered, feeling his warm breath against her skin. His weight was pressed down against her without both hands to hold him up. He traced his cock along the slick seam of her cunt, and she squirmed.

"It's not _fair_ ," she whined. "You acted so coldly before. It's _your_ fault."

The petulance in her voice was almost more than he could handle. He rolled his hips against hers. Then, he shifted his cock against her, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist in a desperate attempt to keep him flush against her. A shooting pain ran up her calf, which she ignored.

" _Ah_!—please!"

Roderich drew back just enough so that he could look at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Huh."

She shifted her hips against him impatiently, trying to nudge his cock closer to her wet entrance. Why wasn't he fucking her already?

"What?" Her voice was laced with her impatience.

"You don't seem as shy as the last time."

Her face warmed.

" _You_ don't seem as eager as the last time."

Roderich's face hardened again.

"You're injured. You realize that, right?"

"Yeah – as of like, a half-hour ago. You haven't wanted to talk about… _us_ and what happened since it happened."

Roderich looked confused now, his head angled to the side, eyes searching her features for something he was missing.

"We had sex; what more is there to talk about?"

She propped herself up on her forearms, ignoring the raw chafe of her skin against the blanket as she leaned up, her brow cinched incredulously. The movement forced Roderich back a little, and finally, she felt like she'd regained some of the power she'd relinquished to him in loving him as she did.

"What do you mean? Of course, there was more to talk about – like, are we going to do it again? Did you like it? Did you—"

She swallowed, her words running into the wall her heart seemed to slam itself against.

"Did you like _me_?"

Roderich's brow lifted briefly at this before his entire expression, unfurled at his surprise, seemed to collapse into something softer.

"Then – you don't you remember what happened?"

Of course, she did. It came to her every night, in searing flashes of images, imprinted on her skull like an X-rated movie. Sometimes she could even feel the piano keys at her back or his mouth still working the wet patch between her legs.

Her face burned; she was hyper-aware of his weight on her, and his hard cock jammed up against her cunt.

"I remember."

"Then how can you be worried that I didn't enjoy it? Or that I don't _like_ you?" One hand reached up to catch her jaw hard in his hands. "I _loved_ you way before we had sex, and maybe I don't tell you often enough," his cheeks seemed to flush a little, and he looked off to the side, at nothing in particular. "But that's only because I thought it went without saying. Now, as for doing it again—"

His grip on her tightened, and then she gasped as he rolled them over, careful not to jostle her too much, caging her in his arms until he was on his back and she was resting on his chest. Her foot throbbed faintly with the sudden shift in motion, but the pain was dull and quickly ebbed away.

Instead, her attention was commandeered by a much more pressing matter; his hot, hard cock nestled against her swollen sex.

"Are you comfortable?" Roderich broke from his initial train of thought to ensure this; the maneuver would've seemed a little rough even if she hadn't been a bit banged up already.

She didn't want him to think about that, though. She didn't want him to think of anything other than slipping himself inside of her already.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I—"

Roderich was adjusting his hips so that his tip was easing inside of her. 

At the glorious friction that came with being filled finally, she moaned. One hand had found a base grip on Roderich's stomach, planted so that she could steady herself on top of him. This grip tightened, her fingers tugging at the wiry, dark hair at his navel.

The muscles of his abdomen tensed in response, and Roderich grunted softly.

She ground her ass down against him, shifting his cock inside of her so that it bumped up against her walls as he filled her. She gasped at the sensation. With the steady thrum of his body under her, it was like she was trapping a part of him in her. The generous wetness she'd accumulated since he'd scooped her up in the woods was seeping out of her, dampening where she sat on top of him.

She could hardly let herself notice the mess, though, as her toes curled. 

God, he was barely inside of her, and already she wanted to come. Her foot twinged, her body warning her not to be too rigorous as she enjoyed her lover. 

Fuck, he was throbbing inside of her. She almost wondered if it would be easier just to let him rail her straight to her release; she didn't dare ask, though. 

While Roderich's words had been reassuring, she still felt as if she'd facilitated enough of the discussion surrounding the more intimate facets of their relationship. He wouldn't get another peep out of her until she heard him beg for it.

She rocked her hips against his, testing the movement. When she felt no pain, she let herself try it again, this time, with a little bit more _torque_. Again, she was all good. 

Now she started bouncing on his lap, spearing his erection into her at a steady pace that had her heart rate speeding up again.

Roderich's hands were at her hip, loose enough to let her dictate their rhythm but steady enough to keep her balanced. His eyes were sharp as he took in her form, breasts bouncing, body canting against his. Occasionally, his hips would rise suddenly to buck against her, as if to remind her that the control she had was just an illusion.

"As for doing it again," he suddenly said, his voice pressed into a terse whisper from how she left him breathless. "I plan on fucking you as often as I can."

It took her a moment to understand what he was talking about – then, through the fever and friction of it all, she remembered. He had started the thought before he'd even been inside her.

She groaned at the promise in his words, rutting more desperately against him. Her hands tensed at his abdomen, her nails biting into his skin. Roderich let out a choked sound.

He drilled into her faster, his hips tilting, switching the angle so that he was somehow fucking her deeper, even though she'd already thought Roderich was hilted in her as far as he could go.

She gasped at this new depth. She hadn't known she _went_ that deep. She gasped at a particularly rough thrust.

" _Roderich!_ —"

Her toes flexed sharply, sending another vibrant ripple of pain up her right shin.

" _Ah_!—"

The sounds of pain could easily be one of pleasure in their frenzied lovemaking. Roderich's lips twitched upwards, his face too tense, his sensibilities too concerned with being the most ardent of lovers to _grin_ during sex. But God, at the sound she made with him inside of her, how could he feel anything but positively giddy?

She could feel herself get dangerously close to her release as her lover pounded mercilessly up into her. One of Roderich's hands left her hip to stroke at her face.

"Mm, you're so lovely."

She felt a deep swooping in her belly and her fingers twitched. She wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

"And yet, you're such a _filthy_ fuck."

Her thighs tensed; he could feel it as her weight constricting on top of him. 

If he stopped now, she'd have died.

His fingers stroked down over the flat of her cheek, moving to her lips, feeling their soft shapeliness. He pushed at the crease of those two pretty petals, pressing his thumb into her mouth until he felt her tongue.

Her cheeks heated as she sucked obediently at the digit.

She came hard and still; Roderich was diligent as he thrust into her, working through the frenzied spell of her orgasm. The hand at her mouth reclaimed his thumb and dropped down, cramming his fingers against her when there was space between their hips so he could catch her clit.

The extra sensitivity on top of her nerves, already reacting like they might shower sparks, had her seizing on top of him. Roderich's remaining hand at her hip gripped her harder, and when that couldn't steady her as they fucked, he reached up to curl his arm around her waist, ensuring she wouldn't fall.

"It's too—"

"Mm, but you look so good when you're coming undone." 

His hips moved faster, more for her and the delicious sounds she made in response and how they'd carry him to his nearing release, than for her, now as she was coming down from her high. 

His hands ghosted over to cover her breasts, fondling and stroking, teasing her nipples, feeling the soft bounce of them. She looked down to watch his hands, those thin, dexterous fingers handling her with the care she'd only ever seen him use for one other thing in his life.

There was a tremor between her legs as her inner walls spasmed around him; her nerves still wired from the abundance of stimulation. She was hot; feverishly so, her mouth dry. A part of her regretted wasting so much of the water Roderich had brought her, especially now that she'd gotten quite the workout. 

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

Roderich was _thick_ ; she was reminded of this as her tired body labored around his girth, his walls squeezing and relenting around him.

 _Fuck_ – he was still as hard as he was when they'd started. How could this man go for so long?

Her grip started to slip, and Roderich caught her hand and guided it to his shoulders, mid-fuck.

"Hold on, I'm almost there—"

She was tired, though – it was apparent. Roderich let her sink down against his chest, curled up against him, his cock still moving tirelessly in her. Now that he no longer had to worry about her balance, Roderich's grip moved so that one arm slipped beneath her thigh, hitching it up. At this change in angle, she twitched against him, a soft moan falling from her lips.

Her thighs more than filled his hands. God, she was soft – he had half a mind to pull out and rub his cock against her delightfully silky skin. With one hand, he reached down to rub at her clit; she clenched around him, jolting meagerly in his arms at the stimulation.

" _Ah_ \--!"

That's right – that was why he wasn't going to pull out.

He adjusted his grip on her, shifting her upwards in his arms, again changing the angle, this time, so he could bury his face into her breasts. She let out a soft gasp, and the grip at his shoulder bit into his skin – her nails.

" _Roderich_."

He rubbed harder at her clit; as much an act of defiance as it was a failure to refine the movements now that he was falling fast towards his release.

His fingers tensed, and she let out an almost pained sound. It only fed his arousal as he speared into her, though.

"Say my name again," he growled.

His face lifted, his hand cupped her jaw hard, forcing her to look up at him.

Her face darkened, though already flushed from exertion.

" _Roderich_ —"

His hands were at her hips in an instance, hilting himself inside of her, grinding. He emptied himself inside of her, and her body writhed like something white-hot was being held to her skin. The spread of heat from his load, her hypersensitivity, and the odd side-to-side of his cock against her walls flooded her with more sensations than her body knew how to process.

After a few moments, she stilled on top of him but never made any effort to leave his lap. Laying back, their skin began to cool into the clammy aftermath of post-sex. When she did move, it was just to feel his softening cock and the sloppy leftovers of their coupling in her.

She reveled -- thrived even -- in the great 'after orgasm'; Roderich was starting to feel a bit sticky.

His arms moved from around her as he tried to prop himself up into a sitting position. Once she felt him start to slide himself out of her, her arms went around his neck to hold him tight with a discontented sound from her throat.

"What? What is it?"

She didn't answer, just buried her face in the crook of his neck and rolled her hips against him.

Though he was no longer hard, the sensation of her hot and tight around him was no less impressive. He made a choked sound, his fingers flexing.

"Really? Again? _Already_?"

He pulled back to look at her face; the corners of his lips turned the barest hint upwards. Worn out as she was, she couldn't resist trying to work Roderich over a little more. He had left her wanting for quite a while and was truly terrible at communicating his softer feelings, despite what he claimed about loathing those who didn't feel everything they did wholly and in earnest.

She batted her eyes and raised a balled fist to her mouth to stifle the hollow little cough she forced from her throat.

"I'm _sick_."

Roderich laughed, a sound so open and unfastened that it almost startled her -- it delighted her just as much, though.

"You mean _injured_ , right?"

"Right. Yeah, that."

She rutted against him again and, this time, felt the hint of friction. He was still soft – mostly, although the need in her seemed to be hypervigilant to the prospects of that changing soon.

"Then," he said, with something a little dangerous in his eyes. "I suppose it's my job to take care of you."

He grabbed two generous fistfuls of her ass, using it to jolt her forward, grinding her down hard against his hips. She took him greedily, her hands once again finding an anchoring hold at his shoulders.

Even with this, though, the motion had her stomach flipping and her blood pounding. It came first in her ears, then down at the renewed heat gathering against her pelvic bone. The firmness of Roderich beneath her seemed to reaffirm this innate _need_ of him, not really just in the flesh but in presence. 

Maybe that's why the weeks after their first time sleeping together had felt so icy – it wasn't that he was pulling away. Still, the thought of him doing so seemed to dredge up this emptiness when the need couldn't be filled. Without thinking about it, her fingers tensed against him.

This dependency was scary in itself, separate from the fear of being without him. 

Roderich rocked his hips against hers again, and she moaned. The sweetness of the friction quickly scattered the anxieties gathering at her like birds on carrion. 

She supposed there was nothing to do – other than love and fuck this man the best she could; the fear would never leave. Neither of them knew exactly what was in store; one moment, he was by her side, and the ground felt steady underfoot. If he left, it'd be like having that crumble away. All of this, both the staying and the leaving, was entirely out of her control.

The fear came with loving him as much as she did. In accepting him, she accepted it, almost as if they were one and the same. To do was to risk, and to not do at all, was to forfeit any right to reward. 

At least, even if things between them failed, she could take pride in knowing that she'd loved him the best she had in her. 

Such was the nature of falling, after all.


End file.
